Dunk Tank
by GreenEvans
Summary: Queen Consolidated is hosting an employee appreciation day and Felicity surprises Oliver with a dunk tank.


**This is all Molly's fault. Again. **

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Oliver smiled at the children running past him, faces painted as animals and balloons tied to their wrists. Felicity had been right, of course. Having an employee appreciation day had been exactly what the company needed.

After reclaiming control of Queen Consolidated from Isabel, Oliver had worked harder than he ever had before as CEO to prove to the company and the board he was who Queen Consolidated deserved to lead them. It had been a long and tedious process, full of late nights and long weekends for everyone, Oliver and Felicity not excluded. Diggle was there as bodyguard-chauffeur-partner, but he had the option of napping on the couch.

Months later, Queen Consolidated was performing better than it had in years and employee morale was steadily climbing with the company's performance. With Felicity's brilliant idea, and the feedback he was receiving from mingling with his company's employees, Oliver felt he had earned their faith and loyalty.

Suddenly Felicity was at his side, hands gripping his arm. The pressure sent his stomach into somersaults.

Oliver smiled down at her as she looked at him with bright eyes. "Oliver, we need you for a CEO thing," she told him.

He frowned slightly as Felicity led him by the arm across the festival. What CEO thing could they need him for, he wondered as they entered an open area with a crowd of families laughing and oohing.

Looking over their heads, he saw what had drawn everyone's attention: Trevor Bradley, one of the Board of Directors for Queen Consolidated was sitting in a dunk tank. Bare feet dangling in the four and half feet of water, pants rolled to mid-calf, he sat on the bench in his Gucci suit.

Oliver began to smile with the crowd as one of the Applied Science techs stepped to take his turn at dunking Bradley when a thought suddenly clicked into place.

"Felicity," he said suspiciously, "I'm just here to watch, right?"

"Trevor looks like he's having fun," she commented, deliberately avoiding Oliver's eyes.

"Felicity!" he whispered urgently. "I can't go in the dunk tank! I'm the CEO!"

Just then the crowd around them roared with approval. Oliver turned to see Bradley plunge into the water, one of the Executive Assistants standing with her arms held victoriously over her head. The crowd high fived the young woman as Bradley stood in the tank sputtering water and laughing.

Oliver looked back to see Felicity smiling innocently – adorably – at him. "Trevor had fun," she told him. Oliver sighed.

"Don't bother fighting her, Oliver," Diggle said, walking up to the pair, a towel slung over his shoulder, his clothes damp and wrinkled from air drying. "You're not going to win."

Oliver stared at Felicity. He could never _really_ deny her anything. "Fine," he sighed in resignation. The smile that lit her face was almost enough to make up for the fact he was going to get drenched in his seven thousand dollar Cesare Attolini suit.

Pulling his arm, Felicity led him behind the dunk tank. "You're up after Jameson," she told him. "Grand finale."

"At least you saved the best for last," he commented, pulling off his jacket. He would be wearing a white dress shirt today.

Diggle snorted. Felicity gave him a flat look at the remark. "The CEO would have to be last to allow for adequate development of excitement and energy and for the crowd to build. Everyone wants to see the CEO dunked, regardless of whom he is or how he might look soaking wet. You're the perfect climax." She closed her eyes briefly. "I mean, you, as CEO, finishing the dunk tank, are the perfect climax." She turned abruptly and walked to where she could watch the crowd.

Oliver sat to remove his shoes. Hearing Felicity say the word 'climax' in relation to him sent images through his mind he probably shouldn't dwell on. Now in public at least.

Glancing up at Diggle, Oliver asked, "How'd she convince you?"

"She recruited Lyla," he answered tersely and Oliver fought a grin imaging how that situation went for his friend. Diggle wouldn't have stood a chance.

Standing barefoot in the grass, Oliver faced Diggle. "Keep these safe," he said passing over his shoes. "They're John Lobb."

"It's my highest priority, Oliver," Diggle replied dryly, taking the shoes. He sighed as a moment later Oliver added his belt to the pile.

Oliver turned toward the dunk tank, undoing his cuffs and rolling up his sleeves as he watched Felicity. She was watching the crowd trying to dunk Jameson, the sun bouncing off her hair, making it shine golden. She looked stunning.

"You've been doing that a lot lately," Diggle noted from beside him. "Staring at Felicity."

"I'm not staring," Oliver defended. The very act of denying what he was doing gave Diggle all the ammo he needed.

John Diggle never said anything, though. He would just look at Oliver with a slight encouraging smile and knowing look in his eye.

"I think you should talk to her," the older man commented.

"You know why I shouldn't," Oliver answered.

"I also know why you should," Diggle replied, looking at Oliver with a supportive and vaguely proud expression. "And just because you shouldn't doesn't mean you can't."

Oliver sighed and opted to remain silent. There were so many pros and cons to Felicity and he couldn't deny the pros side was greater, but there was one con that outweighed everything: he needed to keep her safe.

No matter how strong his feelings grew, that fact was enough to reign in anything thought of action.

"I understand why you let her believe everything you said last year was to stop Slade," Digg continued, "but I know what you told her is how you really feel. It might not have been the right time then, but you can't wait forever. Sometimes you have to make the right time," he finished sincerely, and Oliver could feel his supportive gaze.

Oliver watched Felicity smile as Jameson's six year old took his turn trying to dunk his father. Her laugh carried through the air as the boy's third throw connected with the target with a loud bell and Jameson met the dunk tank.

"John" Oliver said, turning slightly to his friend, "you know I've always valued your advice." He left the statement hanging, the implication plain in his tone that this was not exactly one of those times.

A megaphone screeched to life at that moment, preventing Diggle from replying, and Oliver gave him a small smile at the interruption. Sean Smith's voice boomed over the crowed, thanking Jameson for participating in the dunk tank, joking about his son being the one to hit the target. "And now, our final dunk of the day," Smith continued, "CEO, Oliver Queen!"

The cheering Oliver received when he stepped on the platform was greater than he expected. He couldn't decide if the enthusiasm was the general love for the CEO, or the desire to dunk him. He suspected the latter.

Smiling and waving, Oliver took a seat on the bench, toes dipping into the water. It was freezing. Why was everyone so happy when they fell in? Taking a deep breath, Oliver waited as members of his company lined up to dunk him.

_Thunk!_

The solid sound of the ball hitting the tarp again was becoming music to Oliver's ears. He didn't think they would stop trying, and there were hundreds of employees and family members willing to take their turn (and take a second turn), but every person who missed was a small victory for Oliver. They would have to work to get him drenched.

He could see the excitement and appeal, though. The anticipation as the person threw each ball, the suspense in seeing if it would hit the target. It was fun in a way. It would probably be more fun if he weren't the one on the bench.

"Hey!" someone in the crowd called out. "Give his executive assistant a try! Go on, Felicity!" Oliver was sure it was Clayton Bryant; he'd always had a thing for Felicity and used any opportunity to talk with her. Bryant probably had some elaborate ploy in mind to use this and get Felicity alone somehow. It made Oliver's teeth grind.

At the urging of the crowd, Felicity reluctantly stepped up to line, kneeling gracefully to select one of the softballs. Oliver let out a deep sigh as Felicity's gaze met his. He had a feeling she wasn't going to go easy on him.

Palming the ball, Felicity drew her arm back. Oliver braced himself as the ball flew toward the target. The heavy thud was relief, while the disappointed moan of the crowd told how close she'd been to the target.

Oliver watched as Felicity knelt and removed her heels, standing barefoot in the grass. He watched as her eyes moved from his to the round target, a slight smile gracing her lips. He stared in amazement at the perfect pitcher's stance she took, and damn near gawked when she released the softball.

All at once there was sound of hard leather on metal, the loud clang of the bell, the roaring cheers of the crowd, and the sensation of falling as the seat disappeared from under him and his stomach leapt into his chest.

After years on Lian Yu, and that debacle with Ivo's ship, plunging into water isn't exactly unfamiliar for Oliver. But the water around Lian Yu was never this cold. All the air in his lungs left in a rush of shock from the freezing water. Oliver felt like he just joined the Polar Bear Club as he stood, water dripping down his face, to see Felicity coming toward him, an almost pompous bounce to her step.

"I'm guessing you didn't know I was the starting second baseman for my high school softball time," Felicity commented from the edge of the pool while Oliver wiped the water from his eyes. "And we went to State. Three years in a row." He laughed, shaking his head slightly. She would never cease to amaze him, that was certain.

"The water is freezing," Oliver exhaled sharply, standing rigidly as the water lapped at his ribcage.

"It was warmer early," Felicity said almost sympathetically, her arms crossed on the ledge. Her smile was very cat-ate-the-canary.

Two IT guys rushed up just then and, before Felicity could do more than inhale sharply, flipped her into the dunk tank with Oliver.

She broke the surface of the water, gasping and sputtering. "Oh. My. God," she panted in broken syllables.

"Sorry, it was warmer this morning," Oliver told her. The glare she gave him was almost worth standing in the frigid water with her. Fighting a grin, he held out his hand. "Come on," he said helping her out of the pool and climbing out after her. Oliver followed Felicity down the short set of stairs, water dripping as they walked to the stash of towels.

Oliver tried not to notice how Felicity's skirt and blouse now clung to every curve of her body. Tried, and failed miserably. He fought the urge to grab Felicity by the towel and pull her against him with the sole intention of ravaging her mouth with his.

"You need dry clothes," he stated as he saw her shiver. "Let's get you home. I'll have Diggle drive you." She was so small, standing beside him barefoot. He wanted to bundle her in his arms. And hold her forever.

"Don't be ridiculous," Felicity replied frankly as she wrung water from her pony tail. "I have spare clothes for us at your office. Let Diggle spend time with Lyla," she added, turning toward the QC building.

Frowning, Oliver fell into step beside her. "How and why do you have spare clothes for us?" he asked. "And when did you do this?"

"Oh, Oliver," Felicity laughed. "You swear like it would be so difficult to steal clothes from yours and John's closets. Especially when I have Lyla on my side. As to why," she continued, dropping her voice and weaving through the crowd, "that should be obvious with your hooded activities. I put like three spares for each of us in your office when you made me your Executive Assistant. Only useful thing to come from that _promotion,_" she added under her breath. "I should add some for Roy and Lyla, now that I think about it…"

Oliver smiled as she began rattling about other supplies they might need. She was the smart one of the team.

The elevator doors slid open with a gentle _ping_ and the pair entered his outer office, leaving a puddle in elevator. Standing in the small space to climb the 62 stories of Queen Consolidated was torture. Oliver wanted to pin Felicity to the wall, his body so close to hers they were the same, tangle his hands in her hair and kiss her like a madman.

They walked past Felicity's desk, wet footprints marking their path on the tile, and into Oliver's office. "You don't have to worry about this looking _untoward_ on the cameras," Felicity began, crossing to the giant bureau near the private bathroom. "I disabled all the feeds Isabel set up in the office ages ago." Opening the double doors, she reached behind Oliver's spare suits and slid open the back panel. "Now the only angles are on the elevator bank and my desk. So your office is completely secure from outside sources once more. You're welcome," she added with a complacent smile over her shoulder at him and she rummaged through the hidden compartment.

Looking over her shoulder, Oliver saw not only spare clothes for her and Diggle, but an arsenal of equipment and first aid supplies from the lair. Felicity had certainly been a busy and proactive little bee. "How did I now know you did this?" he asked in disbelief.

"I am a woman of many skills, Oliver. Here, change into that." She pressed a deep blue suit to his chest, taking a skirt and blouse to the bathroom for herself.

Setting the suit aside to unbutton his shirt, Oliver commented casually, "Diggle keeps trying to get me to ask you out." He stripped the wet shirt from his body and began toweling dry his chest and arms.

"Oh?" Felicity replied from behind the door. Her voice was faint and breathy, vaguely unsure. "How'd that go?"

Oliver swung the door open gently and stepped up behind her, her wet hair trailing down her bare back. His hands found their way to her hips, still covered by her skirt, slid around her waist and held her close. "He's very convincing," he said softly into her hair.

Felicity turned his arms, breasts pressed to his skin as her arms wound around his neck. Her fingers brushed through his hair, pulling his head down for his lips to meet hers. Oliver returned the kiss, walking her back against the counter. "We should really tell him," she sighed as they parted. "If we did, I wouldn't have had to keep my hands to myself after seeing you soaked in your white shirt. You looked quite scrumptious."

"But hiding _this_," his hand slide along her center, "is so much fun."

"I can't…deny that," she gasped, her nails digging with her grip, hips arching into him, "but I feel so guilty lying to him."

"Let's talk about this later," Oliver said, hands ghosting over her skin to the zipper of her skirt. "There are some things I'd like to do with you now that we're alone."

Felicity smiled at him as the skirt pooled at her feet, her hands working the zipper of his slacks as Oliver pulled her lips to his.

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**Comments and thoughts always appreciated.**

**Thanks for reading. **


End file.
